letter to bob in the hospital

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letter to bob in the hospital

Postby costellopunk » Wed Jul 30, 2003 2:56 am

it was two days ago
we were just sitting around
in your apartment
listening to nick cave

just us

your apartment was still empty
from the robbery
they grabbed what they could

they left the tv and the stereo
too big
that big hole where your door knob used to be
was staring at us

your stupid roomates
were out buying junk
and we were talking about neal cassidy

lying on those train tracks

you thought he was so tough

i kept trying to explain how he was
kerouac's whipping boy

i went over to the restroom to wash my hands
hating your apartment
and the blood in your sink

"i know what your doing. its laredo all over again. and this is my last fucking night junky sitting."


"no. shut up. you think i don't notice the way you always have that hoodie on when i come see you? i know you know i check your arms."

"just listen...."

"no. i'm done."

i've known you for years, bob
i know what your dad does in laredo
i know what he made you do
i know all about your "not a mom"

i remember picking you up for school in the morning
and she would be strung out on the floor

i hate her for sending you back to that fucking shithole town

you would just step over her and shrug

"what can you do? some people are weak."

bob, i'm weak

i can't be strong for you anymore
i can't even be strong for me

i thought you could overcome this

i know what you'll say if i give you the opportunity

you will tell me how you were neglected
how you were abused
all these things i know about

i know your dad shot you up so you wouldn't leave

but you did leave
i thought that was a turning point

you came back
made all those great grades
1420 SAT score

accepted into any college
they fucking threw money at you

you were going to go to michigan
as a physics major

and now your in the ICU

two nights ago you were sitting in the apartment
alone with the tv glow
until i came over

i can't watch you every second
but i check on you four nights a week

two days prior to that
we were sitting in line at the university
getting ready to get you registered
when i noticed you shaking

i didn't say anything

last night
you were admitted into my hospital
my fucking hospital

there was insulin in the syringe bob

that's what got you

did you know i came to see you
you weren't exactly coherent

so i'm leaving this note

i know i told you i would send you back to laredo if this happened
but i can't
you knew what an empty threat that was

i heard about your od over there
and how your dad used his connections to get you out of the hospital
i know you flatlined that time

how many times are you going to die before you start living?

how many times can one person die?

bob, i'm done
i'm sorry

we're too much alike
we can't save ouselves much less each other

bob, i love you
i know you're going to accuse me of taking the easy way out
but i'm just so tired
i know you will also curse me for the rest of your life

but you know what

i will curse you too

you're the second person i ever gave up on
i was the first

your friend, daniel
-it takes a long time but god dies too/but not before he sticks it to you-

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Postby Poppet » Wed Jul 30, 2003 9:28 am


now i'm crying.


that was .............. itself.

... name the stars and constellations,
count the cars and watch the seasons....

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Postby sulkygirl » Wed Jul 30, 2003 4:59 pm

"God helps those who help themselves".
"Love can be stranger than fiction..."

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Postby costellopunk » Wed Jul 30, 2003 11:52 pm

i'm kinda posting this letter to see if i'm in the right here. i'm the one who volenteered to help bob out when everyone else gave up. can i really give up on him now? i'm not good at these things. drama gives me such a big headahce. any advice?
-it takes a long time but god dies too/but not before he sticks it to you-

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Postby lapinsjolis » Thu Jul 31, 2003 2:00 am

Costellopunk-You are burnt out and emotionally drained. Yet, I sense a champion of 'lost' causes. Have your friend read the poem. You can't give if there's nothing left to give someone. Maybe you should give him the chance to be as selfless as you have been. You are tired but I don't think ready to turn your back on him. You still see a world of possiblity in him. You are a rare and giving friend. Few are worthy of such devotion. It's late so this may make no sense at all. :roll:

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Postby bambooneedle » Thu Jul 31, 2003 8:32 am

CPunk, I don't know you or him. I can only offer a few thoughts to reflect on. Something like "Give up on" is such an emotionally loaded phrase. How responsible should you feel for the guy in the first place? There's no doubt you care for the guy, and might always care, so let that not be doubted. But you can direct your care only as far as what you can DO... which might not be much in reality -- if you realize this to be the case, you might make better use of your energy towards whatever it is you do do. This way you'll minimize any sense of regret, and you can wish him luck.

The letter is very personal and may send him an underlying message that you'll keep being willing to put yourself out for him. I'd suggest you confront him instead -- that might impress things upon him more strongly and succinctly; don't continually entertain things, or him, getting all "reasonable" on you. Be firm. Also, you needn't wait till you're pissed off enough or whatever either to act most effectively.

I don't know how helpful if at all this is, or if I'm just stating the obvious.

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Postby A rope leash » Thu Jul 31, 2003 7:14 pm

As a person who spent ten years with "the worst drunkard in American history", I can attest to the fact that being a friend to someone that continually fucks up because of a chemical addiction is not an easy task.

Essentially, one may feel a sense of responsibility to the friend, or even love, but the truth is that love does not conquer addiction. There's a fine line between helping and enabling. It may seem brutal, but the best thing for the addicted might be abandonment, at least by those they are close to. That's what they mean by "losing everything", or "hitting rock-bottom". Then they can start anew, with new friends, and new attitudes.

Earth knows I loved my dead wife. I think about her everyday. She only calls when she's drunk, so I know if she doesn't call, she must be sober, so I just resist contacting her, because it might be her excuse to go on a bender. It's hard, but that's what friends are for...

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